Every Now and Then
by Darknightdestiny
Summary: [Cloud X Tifa] Every now and then, her patience was rewarded in full. Happy Birthday, Motchi.
1. Chapter 1

**Every Now and Then**

_Happy Birthday, Motchi!_

**(-Chapter One-)**

Cool air blew in through the tiny space between the doors of Seventh Heaven, sending light, warming chills through Tifa's body as she cleaned the windows. Goosebumps danced over her arms and warm breath fogged the glass as she polished away, rough paper towels in one hand and spritzer bottle in the other. Outside, she could see Cloud coming up the walkway, Marlene slung over his shoulder and Denzel walking along beside him, grinning and talking about something.

Suddenly the three of them burst into laughter, and she couldn't help the smile that tugged at her mouth. Three distinct voices, one complete sound. It rang beautifully in the crisp, mid-morning air, and Tifa knew that such things were how their world was meant to be.

If only they could be like that always. They weren't, of course, but every now and then she caught a glimpse of the things she'd stored up for herself. She was a woman who invested in people.

Tifa backed away from the double doors and retreated to the bar, just as Cloud swung one of them open and entered the room, Marlene draped over both shoulders like a scarf, and Denzel following close behind. Cloud's eyes were crinkling in the corners, the way they always did when he gave off a genuine smile. Marlene was all grins and giggles, and Denzel was chuckling.

"I got you guh - ahp!" Marlene shouted down to the boy; her good-natured satisfaction was drowned out by a sudden yelp as Cloud slid her from one shoulder and completely off to the side. She dangled upside-down near his hip, laughing in fits as her tiny hands flew to the hem of her dress to keep it from slipping. "Okay. Okay! Put me down!" she cried, a smile on her face all the while. Cloud obediently did as he was asked, righting the little girl's balance on the floor before righting himself, greeting Tifa with a bright-eyed grin.

Warmth spread through Tifa's chest as she took him in, light and feathery hair bobbing as he moved, cheeks flushed pink with wintery wind and horseplay. She smiled back, eyes catching his and holding them there. "You kids head on upstairs and get ready," she said. "And take your gifts with you."

Cloud approached the bar as the very animated Marlene and Denzel rushed past him towards the decorative table, gathering their presents by the armful and taking the steps two at a time. Tifa reached out behind the counter and retrieved a bottle of cranberry wine from the miniature refrigerator, setting it on the bartop. "Be back in a second," she said, walking over to gather the scraps of paper littering her floor.

Just as the children flew back downstairs and disappeared with another load, she heard heavy scuffing outside. Peering through the glare of the late morning sun on the crystals dotting the edges of her windows, she spotted Barret ambling along the side of the building. She flashed a smile at Cloud just as he burst through the door.

"Hey!" he boomed. "Happy Anniversary! ...Or somethin'," he chuckled.

"Hello, Barret," Tifa returned, giving a small wave as she deposited the wrappings into a bag and set them aside. "Same to you."

Barret lumbered over and clapped Cloud on the back. "Looks like a tornado come right through here. Want help wit' that?" he added, looking back at Tifa.

"That's all right," she said, picking up the last bits. "I think I'm done here."

"Oh! Got somethin' for you. Be back in a minute."

Cloud and Tifa exchanged curious glances as Barret disappeared out the door. Within seconds, Denzel had hopped down the stairs again, with Marlene hot on his heels. "Is Papa here?" she asked.

There was the slam of a truck door, and Barret was back inside, carrying a huge log of seasoned wood with him. "Hey, Marlene!" he called over the load in his arms. "How's my little girl?"

"Good!" she smiled, not rushing for him just yet, seeing he was carrying something rather heavy.

"Hey, Denzel! You ready for a trip?"

The boy nodded at Barret as he set the log in the fireplace, on the far side of the room.

"S'not much," Barret said, "but I saw it an' thought you two might enjoy a nice, quiet night by the fire." He hoisted Marlene up on his shoulder and walked over to put his other arm around Denzel and draw him close. "We've got a good weekend planned for the kids," he chuckled. "Elmyra's cooked a feast, and everyone's gonna gather in the center of town after dark tomorrow, to plant in the Memorial Garden."

"That will be so lovely," Tifa said, skirting the counter. "You two run upstairs and get your things. And...thank you, Barret."

Barret set Marlene down, and she followed Denzel up to their room. He turned to the blonde. "So, how've things been with the delivery business?"

Cloud shook his head, smiling. "Hectic. I could barely handle it. Everything you see around here," he nodded to the potted saplings lining the walls, the lights adorning the ceiling above the bar, "Tifa did herself. I was running all over the place like a chocobo with its head cut off."

"Damn, Spike."

"Yeah," Cloud sighed. He was interrupted by the loud clunking of luggage on the stairs.

"We're ready!" Denzel exclaimed, as they both rushed to the side of the counter and waited patiently for Tifa to emerge from the bar and give them their goodbye hugs.

"Have fun, you two," she said, wrapping them into her arms. "Be on your best behavior for Elmyra. And enjoy yourselves!"

The children made their way over to Cloud, and he bent down and gave them each a hug in turn, something he didn't do very often, Tifa noticed. Cloud was always ready to horse around, but he was sparing with more obvious, outward signs of affection, especially with the boy. Cloud guided Marlene back around to face her father, and he ruffled Denzel's hair. "Go crazy," he said.

Barret gave Cloud a slight frown and laughed. "Sure. You guys relax, an' I get all the fuss." He turned to go, both of the kids dragging their bags behind them. As they disappeared through the door, he waved at Cloud and Tifa over his shoulder. "Take it easy, now."

Once Barret and the children were gone and the noise had died down, Cloud and Tifa found themselves in an awkward sort of silence. Tifa couldn't remember the last time she had a minute to herself to sit alone and think, much less any time alone with Cloud, who seemed to have the same problem. She did owe Barret, she realized; they had been preparing for the holiday all week, both of them worked to exhaustion during the season's swell of business. To her, it seemed that it had been 'the holidays' for an entire month.

The holiday, christened 'The Rebirth', was only in its fourth year running. In remembrance of the Planet's salvation, there was a celebration held the world over during the transition from winter to spring, marking the Planet's miraculous rebirth in the wake of Holy. Presents were given to symbolize the living, breathing circle of life bestowing more life; all manner of blossoms and saplings were planted to ensure that such life would carry on.

The idea had caught on quickly, and like any other holiday, opportunity was to be found around every corner. Busy shoppers came and went, passing through the bar, and Cloud truly was running himself ragged. It was such a relief to be able to shut down for the main event, to finally have a break, that Tifa almost didn't know what to do with the time.

There was a scraping sound against the wood floor as Cloud stood from his seat. Tifa was snapped from her thoughts, and her hand unconsciously darted out to grab his arm. As soon as she made contact, she realized what she was doing, and her grip slackened.

"You don't...have anywhere to be, do you?"

Cloud smiled apologetically. "Actually, I do have one more bundle to deliver," he said, "but I should be home by nightfall."

Tifa blinked back the foreboding in her gut and managed a small smile. "All right, then," she said. "Do you need me to get a coat for you?"

"No," he shook his head. "Mine's right over there." He motioned to the thick jacket draped over a chair in the corner.

She hadn't seen that there. It seemed to fit though, Cloud always being prepared to make a run. She bit back a tiny, laughing wince at that. She never could hold onto him, no matter how hard she tried; he had a mind of his own, and though sometimes it made things hard on her, she didn't have any desire to change that, not after all the time he had spent being unable to think for himself. Skittish and closed off sometimes, but every bit himself and no longer a shadow of someone else, a man she didn't know.

Besides, things weren't always so tough. And every now and then, he would prove to her that it was somehow worth it all, be it a look or a smile, or the barest hint of true joy she thought she saw in him when he was playing with the kids. When he could forget for just one moment that there ever was a Sephiroth, or a Meteor, or a boy named Zack with a flower-girl love named Aerith. Every now and then, her patience was rewarded in full. It was those moments that helped her to persevere.

When she thought about it, she couldn't remember a time before Meteor when Cloud had been living life for himself. If he needed time, space, whatever, she could deal with that. Only she had really been missing him.

"Cloud?"

He stopped half-way through the door to look back at her. "Yeah?"

Tifa smiled softly from her spot in the middle of the room, not quite sure when she'd begun following him. "You will be back tonight, won't you?"

She loved him, that much was certain. But there were times, especially during that particular season, when she felt that lonely ache. It was, after all, a time for remembrance. Maybe he would visit the church. Or maybe he would go and deliver the package like he'd said, and be done with it. But he would have to return sometime. She was his home, she was sure. The heart always returned to its first love, didn't it?

Cloud nodded. "Wouldn't miss it for the world." Then he cast her his best reassuring smile, before heading to the garage to pick up the last bag of well-wishes and ride out.

**End Chapter One**

_Final Fantasy VII and its characters © 1997 Square-Enix Co., Ltd._

* * *

_**Note, Feb. 09, 2007:** _I'm a CloTi virgin, but it's Kim's birthday, and what Kim wants, Kim gets. There's more to this, but it needs a little polishing. It was going to be a oneshot, but it kind of got away from me, and became longish and interesting. I wanted to get something posted today, to mark the occassion, so this is chapter 1. This will be a brief three or four-parter fic, and I hope I am able to do the pairing justice, or at least not butcher it completely.

New territory for me, so feedback, concrit, reviews, etc. are much appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

**Every Now and Then**

_For Motchi_

**(-Chapter Two-)**

It was early evening by the time Cloud reached Nibelheim. To his credit, he had done everything he could to keep his promise; he had even taken a shortcut through the mountains, by-passing the marshes in order to reach Junon ahead of schedule. But, lo and behold, the last cargo ship had already left the port, and he was forced to wait a full three hours for the next one to return, fuel up and pass inspection.

In smaller towns on his route like Corel and Cosmo, he didn't even have to deliver the items himself. No, he had community drop-boxes for that, ridiculous-looking, armored things for which only he and the town's postal supervisor had keys. Nice of them, to help him out once in a while. But Cloud, he was faster than the postal service - and responsible for lost items, as he was paid for that - so technically, he was lightening their load all year long.

What he hadn't remembered was how many of the packages in the bag had belonged to residents of up-and-coming towns like Gongaga and Junon. Their expanding offices had enough work already, cataloguing the influx of new residents, stagnant WRO members and Rufus' old military recruits from Midgar, who it turned out weren't going to be shipped anywhere. He was responsible for all of his business there, all of the time, and he could have sworn Gongaga was bigger than the last time he was there. He even double-checked the label on the outside of his bag, not to mention the dates on the packages, to make sure he hadn't grabbed the wrong one; there were certainly a lot of people in that town.

Luckily enough, his drop-boxes were devoid of pick-ups, save for one item in Cosmo that was to go to Nibelheim. He'd enlisted Cid's help with Wutai and the Northern Continent the day before, and left him with Rocket Town's personal effects. He wouldn't have to stop on the way home.

But it was just like fate to step in and ruin his plans. On a day when everything actually went right for once, everything went wrong. Either it was fate, or someone up there had it in for him. First the boat, then Gongaga (and an unforeseen incident involving a construction roadblock); and the loud crack of thunder overhead, accompanied by foreboding yellow-black skies, was enough to convince Cloud that it was most definitely the latter.

Probably Bahamut Sin, he noted wryly. Never tangle with a god unless you are willing to accept the consequences.

Cloud rode into the deserted square, Fenrir's muffled engine the only noise in the quiet town. After giving the area a good once-over, he veered off toward the postal office to check his oversized P.O. box. Empty. But...

Tiny raindrops pelted his arms as he shut the lid. No, those were a bit too rough to be made of only water. He looked to the ground, eyeing the clicketty-clacketty ice shards at his feet. Hail. Of all the-

He jumped on his bike and took off through the square. Too late to turn back, and he didn't have enough money for a room at the inn; no, he'd have to save that for fuel. No one in this town he could stay with, and as he passed Tifa's old house, he judged from the sillhouettes in the illuminated windows that someone had already bought the place. He wasn't quite sure why that was disconcerting; that town was full of nightmares, and they mostly just wanted to forget it.

But it had been _their_ town, years ago...

ShinRa Manor stuck out like a sore thumb in the distance, an offending stepping stone to the Nibel mountain range that towered high behind it, not so darkly under the already blackened skies. Cloud sped toward his destination, shoulders bowed to protect himself from the stinging hail, struggling to keep his sight clear and his balance checked despite the slippery cobblestone and strong gusts of wind.

Fenrir slowed to a bumpy stop on the walkway, and Cloud jumped off to unhinge the old gate. The weighty metal screeched in protest, but it was nothing compared to the howls overhead. The rumbling grew into a rage, and as the first crack of lightning appeared in the sky, he opened the heavy doors to the mansion and pushed his bike inside.

Once Fenrir was safely inside the building, Cloud pulled the double doors shut after him. Falling hailstone pelted the pavement outside and ricocheted off the manor, and the sound resonated off the walls and was amplified by the vaulted ceiling. Much of the window glass was punched out, and didn't help with keeping the storm outside.

His footsteps echoed as he walked through the house, taking it all in again. It reminded him of the first time he saw the manor; no more than a footsoldier, and after visiting his mother, he'd gone wandering to pass the time. He remembered his first tentative steps past the double doors, and his disbelief at the state of the place, like a dark warning, something out of a gothic horror novel.

Overturned chairs, and bookshelves nearly gored out. The curtains had been torn, and the kitchen floor was littered with dishes all shattered to pieces. A fallen pile of old records, glasses full of mould, a pair of reading glasses. With so much strewn about, it was a stroke of luck that anyone noticed the one stand-alone note on the floor five years later.

People had been living there. It wasn't long before he was joined by Zack, who pointed out that not a single mirror in the mansion remained unbroken, even the one in the bathroom. It was as if someone - or something - had gone on a long, drawn out rampage, possibly even returning to break what had been missed.

But there was no one there.

Now, Cloud saw that there were piles of furniture against the wall, covered by a large, plastic tarp. A quick walk around the lower level proved them to be the articles from the other rooms. The mirrors were also missing, and the rotted wallpaper in the lobby was stripped down to its ugly-yellow, tattered glue. The only room with anything still in it was the music room. The piano was also covered by a tarp, and the large window, too, from the outside. The stained glass had been ruined, he supposed, as he listened to the rain beating against the plastic and rolling off into the mud outside. But why would Rufus want...?

Or maybe it was Reeve? He hadn't said anything, but he didn't often discuss WRO business with him anyway.

Cloud shook his head and returned to the lobby, walking Fenrir from the middle of the room to the next, beneath the staircase. He then made his way up the rickety stairs, intending to get some rest.

The second level, he soon found, wasn't empty. The furniture was upright and in place, but devoid of any other signs of ownership. All of the books, boxes, clothing and other belongings that had been there four years earlier were nowhere to be found. The beds seemed to be untouched; he sat down on one, not thinking, and was met with a plume of dust. Coughing and spluttering, Cloud jumped from the musty mattress, ruffled through his hair and smoothed his clothes down, ridding them of the dirty residue.

Flipping out his phone, he dialed the number to Tifa's bar. The phone rang once, twice, and then static crept in and the dial tone dissipated into nothing. Cloud checked the display, and found he was without a signal. Holding the phone out in front of him, he paced the room, then the hallway, then the rest of the upper level, until he reached the room that held the secret passageway into the basement. Still no signal.

He made to turn away, but the closed door was enough to pique his curiousity. And with the storm raging heavily outside, he wasn't going anywhere for a while.

No one from Avalanche had been to the mansion in an entire year. But _someone_ had come and moved things around. There were no bodies to speak of; no Deepground soldiers, no monster remnants. And he sincerely doubted Vincent had been given the time, or had cared as much.

One hand wound tightly around the hilt of his blade, he pocketed his phone and stepped forward, rapping twice on the door.

There was no movement from inside the room. Cloud knocked again, and again he was rewarded with nothing. He tried the knob and found that it was locked from the other side. Which meant someone, or something, was probably inside. Or else...

Maybe Vincent had locked it behind him when he'd come up through the sewers. Maybe there were still undesirable things lurking below the mansion. If there were, he wasn't sure he wanted to go barging in there without any knowledge of them. But if the door was locked, then certainly the passageway was also closed? Cloud waited outside the door for a full fifteen minutes before deciding that there was no one behind it.

Instead of breaking down the door or investigating further, Cloud headed downstairs. The rain still came in heavy torrents, and he still wasn't getting a signal on his phone. Tifa would be worried, for sure; it was well past dinnertime, he was hours away on another continent, and there was no way to know when the storm was going to let up. With no way to reach her, she would have plenty of time to get worked up, thinking he had either broken his promise or something terrible had happened when he didn't answer his phone. Either way, things were not looking up.

And, holy hells, what was _that_? Cloud was awestruck not only by the giant, spider-like thing in the far corner of the room, but more by the fact that he hadn't noticed it. It was crumpled in a heap to the right of the door, clothed in shadow from the balcony up above. Cautiously, Cloud made his way over to the thing. It's dull, blue sensory eye was dead, and he gave it a few rough kicks with his heavy boots for confirmation. Nothing.

There was really no more he could do, but wait out the storm. So, he turned away from the beast-shell and parked himself in the room with Fenrir, on the spot of flooring that was covered in the least amount of rot. Unsheathing his sword, he leant it against the wall and sat down beside it to rest his eyes.

**End Chapter Two**

_Final Fantasy VII and its characters © 1997 Square-Enix Co., Ltd._

* * *

**_Note, Feb. 21, 2007: _**"There were no bodies to speak of": Vincent was shot by Hojo, so either he never died completely, or the Lifestream is discriminating about who or what it takes. I know Kadaj was all green and fluttery when he died, but there were bones in the other caskets in the mansion, so I'm inclined to think that it is indeed a discriminating force. Also, I know there was no kitchen or bathroom in ShinRa Manor during the original game, but there also were very few people, and you could cross an entire town in a matter of seconds. So, I figure, they'd only include what was relevant to the plot, and everything else is free grounds, as long as it doesn't contradict what was there.

Reviews are yummy. -RAWR, RAWR, CHOMP, CHOMP, CHEW- Mmm, yummy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Every Now and Then**

_For Motchi_

**(-Chapter Three-)**

Dawn was approaching as Cloud pried his tired eyes open to the noisy clattering of his phone against the floor. It had somehow fallen out of his pocket while he shifted in his sleep. And somehow, his signal had been restored.

"Hello?" he answered blearily, rubbing his eyes.

_"Cloud."_

He sat up, away from the wall. What time was it, and how long had he been asleep? He listened to the empty silence filling the house; the rain had stopped. "...Tifa."

_"Are you alright?" _she asked, her voice tinged with a strange mix of concern and suspicion. All at once it made him feel badly, but he had honestly tried this time. _"It's almost lunchtime here. I was beginning to worry."_

"I'm fine," he said. "I got caught in a storm. I'll be home as soon as I can."

_"Okay," _she answered, sounding disappointed nonetheless. _"...The kids are coming home tomorrow."_

She'd missed him. She'd wanted to spend some time alone with him. Honestly, how many opportunities did they get? Cloud sighed, running his hand through his hair as he stood, walking out into the lobby of the mansion. "I'm coming home." He peered out one of the broken windows at the cobalt sky. "...You okay?"

_"Yeah," _she said, followed by a short laugh. _"Just don't get lost on the way."_

He grimaced. "Okay. I'll see you soon. Bye, Tifa."

_"Goodbye."_

Cloud closed his eyes and thought about the long trip home; his muscles ached from slouching against the wall and from spending the previous day on his bike. The thought did occur to him to call up Cid and ask if he could meet him in Rocket Town for a lift. What they really needed to do, he thought, was organize some mode of transportation from the other side of East Continent, so that anyone who wanted to travel from Edge to Rocket, Nibel or Wutai wouldn't have to cross a marsh, an ocean, a desert and some mountains. If Cid weren't still running around all helter skelter for Reeve, he could really cash in on that.

"They do have an inn here in town."

Cloud started at the unexpected voice, whirling around as his ears followed the sound. Behind him, and not thirty feet away, Vincent Valentine sat on the banister, looking every bit as comfortable as he had in the coffin, the first time they'd met. How creepy.

The younger man's shoulders relaxed, and he raised an arm to run his hand over the back of his hair. "Yeah," he said shrugging, "I guess I didn't come prepared. You're... living here?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it living," Vincent replied, dismounting from his perch to land on the floor below. He walked casually towards the center of the room, passing Cloud and pausing to peer over the younger man's shoulder. "Is that your bike in my office?" he asked, mouth and eyebrow twitching.

"Your... office?"

"I could have an office."

Well, understandably, Cloud had felt the need to ask, considering the state of the room. It must be another of Vincent's bizarre attempts at humor, he thought. Whatever. "I didn't want it to get ruined in the rain."

"Hm," Vincent mused thoughtfully, narrowing one eye. "It is a good thing then, that you did not come in Barret's truck." He resumed his pacing. "How are things in Edge?"

"Alright, I guess," Cloud said, dropping his arm to his side. "The kids are happy, the bar's doing well. Can't really complain."

"...Hmph," he grunted, leaning against the wall.

"So...you've been staying here, then?" Cloud asked, once he realized Vincent was through with his end of the conversation.

"Not for long, but yes," was the reply.

Cloud folded his arms and shot the tall man a questioning glance. "Every bed in this place is covered in dust-mites. Where do you sleep?"

"In the basement," said Vincent, idly flexing his claw.

"...In the coffin?" Cloud asked, strangely not as bothered by this, well aware of Vincent's... tendencies.

"Yes."

Cloud tilted his head, shifting his weight. "Still a little odd."

"Is it?" he asked rather blandly, still playing with his claw.

"Yeah," Cloud smiled, "but you were always kind of odd."

"Perhaps I am just lazy," Vincent deadpanned, tilting his head to better gauge Cloud's reaction.

The blonde chuckled. "Why are you here?"

"Why are _you_ here?"

"I asked you first."

"That's not a rule, you know."

"Fine," Cloud resigned, rolling his eyes and smiling. He did miss this every now and again. "I was delivering a package, and I got rained out. I have maybe enough gil to fuel up on the way home, if I need it. So," he shrugged, leaving the obvious to rest.

Vincent nodded slowly. "...Ah."

"Did you do that?" Cloud asked, gesturing to the pile of debris in the corner of the room.

"I might have. Did you get the package I sent?" Vincent asked, mildly interested and changing the subject.

Cloud folded his arms. "Of course, I'm the one who delivered it. Are you keeping it as a conversation piece, or do you just like the way it looks?"

Vincent crossed his arms again, an amused smile playing on his face. "I'm waiting for someone to come and break it down, as I can't move it by myself. Were the items useful?"

"Oh yeah," Cloud replied. "Those two can't possibly go through enough clothes. Though I'm sure they would have rather had candy or something half as good for them, I think Tifa was pleased."

"I've never had children, so I wouldn't know."

Vincent always did have a knack for using awkward and uncomfortable lines to repel conversation. Cloud felt he should say something. "...They're hard to keep up with."

"I should think so."

Cloud frowned, shifting on his feet. "Anyways, I'm sure Tifa will be doing a lot better once the holiday is done with. It's been a lot of work for her, with me running around on deliveries."

Vincent nodded, but didn't say anything.

"So why are you hanging out here in ShinRa Manor? I'd have thought it'd be the last place you'd want to revisit. Bad memories and all."

"Hmm," Vincent droned. "It has its purpose after all, I suppose."

"What's that?" the younger man asked.

Vincent straightened, pushing away from the wall to pace across the floor. "I have contractors coming later this week," he said. "A project I've been working on."

"Project?"

The gunman turned several paces away to face the youth. "Yes. I'm turning the mansion into a lodge."

Cloud blinked. That wasn't a half-bad idea; Vincent might be onto something. "Enterprising, much?"

"It should bring in a good amount of money," he said. "Skiing. Hunting. Rock-climbing. The town is not too far from the shore, either."

"Huh. I never figured you were the type to capitalize. Any reason?"

Vincent frowned. "It is good to have something to pass the time, is it not?"

If there was anything Vincent had plenty of, it was time. "I guess so."

"You guess pretty often. Indecisive, much?" Vincent turned towards the opposite wall, not paying attention to Cloud's curious stare or giving him the time to ponder the hidden meaning behind his words. "I am thinking about knocking those walls down," he continued, gesturing to the lower East Wing of the house, "and putting in a lounge. Entertainment perhaps, a full bar."

"Can you even do this?"

Vincent frowned. "The outside is made of solid cinderblock. All I really need to do is gut the place."

Cloud shook his head. "I meant, do you even own the mansion?"

"I do."

"Since when?"

"Since Rufus signed it over to me."

"Get real."

"And why not?" Vincent asked, raising an eyebrow. "I've got blackmail the likes of which you've never seen."

Cloud blinked.

"He didn't want this dump, anyway," Vincent said, kicking at the rotted baseboard.

"Well, it all sounds...pretty nice," Cloud intoned dumbly. At least the man had found something to hold his interest for a while. "I thought you hated crowds."

"Oh no," Vincent said. "I'm not staying. Bad memories and all," he joked, flashing a wicked grin that the blonde didn't see.

Cloud walked out into the middle of the lobby and placed his hands on his hips, staring up at the ceiling. "I don't know," he said. "What you're talking about...it might be worth it."

Vincent's eyebrows lifted, curious. "To whom?"

Cloud shrugged. "Someone."

"Yourself?"

The younger man dropped his head to stare at the other. "...What do you mean?"

Vincent dropped his arms and tilted his head. "Would you be interested?"

"You mean...stay here?"

He frowned thoughtfully. "The plans for the bar were drawn up with Seventh Heaven in mind."

"They were? Why?"

"It's the only bar I've spent much time in since thirty years ago."

"...Right."

"I don't think it would take long for Tifa to familiarize herself with it." He paused. "Barret is moving back to Corel, correct? The children would be closer here than in Edge."

"Whoa," Cloud said, holding up his hands. "Do I get a choice in this? Besides, wouldn't you rather have someone with more experience?"

The demi-human's eyes narrowed. "Do I look like I want to conduct interviews?"

Cloud straightened. "Not really."

Vincent held his hand to his chin thoughtfully. "We'll iron out the details, perhaps over breakfast?"

"Uh...okay? There's nothing open at this hour. Besides, I told Tifa I was going to head home."

"Hm. Perhaps I should whip something up, then."

Cloud blinked at Vincent's dismissal, then sighed. "Sure, what the hell."

Vincent didn't move. Cloud watched him for a minute, and then he began to look around.

"Uh..."

"It was a joke."

"Hmm?"

"There's nothing here," Vincent said, smirking.

"Oh."

"Exactly." Vincent narrowed his eyes. "Would you really eat something cooked in this place?"

"...No."

More silence.

"You know, your sense of humor still needs some work."

"I cannot help it that you are slow to catch on."

"I'm still hungry though. What kind of a host are you?"

"Why don't you ask my tenants?" he asked, heading up the stairs.

Oh, right. Haha. Cloud shook his head, following. "I thought _I_ was doing _you_ a favor by thinking this over."

"But it is not my job to feed you. You were uninvited. And you stashed your bike indoors."

"Oh-_ho_. You're such a cut-up."

"Indeed."

"Are you going to go on forever?"

Vincent grinned. "Only time can tell."

**End Chapter Three**

_Final Fantasy VII and its characters © 1997 Square-Enix Co., Ltd._

* * *

**_Note, March 14th, 2007: _**Vincent as comic relief; that's a new thing for me. But this is my favorite Vincent... one who gets a kick out of messing with people. Because he did, you know. In the game.

Depending how long the next chapter ends up, it may or may not be the last one. I was thinking this would end up being six parts long, but I'm thinking now it will probably end up being five. We'll see.

Feedback/comments are much appreciated. :-)


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